


Eridium Tier

by TauntedOctopi



Series: Eridium Tier Content [1]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Creampie, Cunnilingus, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Religion Kink, Religious Fanaticism, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Shameless Smut, Smut, Troy has a slight breeding kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TauntedOctopi/pseuds/TauntedOctopi
Summary: You're brought before the God King for one purpose. You have no problem with this.
Relationships: Troy Calypso/Original Character(s), Troy Calypso/Reader
Series: Eridium Tier Content [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550542
Comments: 3
Kudos: 92





	Eridium Tier

Title goes Here 

You're not sure what you did to get the attention of the God King, but you sure as hell aren't regretting or questioning it. He'd sent for you, sent one of the high ranking devout to find you, bring you to him. 

He had asked if you wanted to please your god. Of course; you lived for the Twin Gods. Your clan had been in poverty and suffering before the Twin Gods had invited you to join their family. Now you no longer saw your friends starving to death, fighting each other for nothing. You were just a humble bandit, the girl who met her quota with pride because she knew the Calypsos had saved her. 

And now, you were being rewarded. Oh, gods, were you being rewarded. 

He had stripped you down quickly, tearing your already worse-for-wear dress to shreds with his formidable metal arm, practically thrown you backwards onto his bed. 

Gods, his bed. It was the most comfortable thing you had ever laid on in your life, and if you weren't so caught up in what he was doing to you, you'd probably fall asleep instantly. 

The metal hand was settled firmly on your stomach, holding you in place. That was fair, if not for the weight of it you'd probably be wiggling around a fair bit. His flesh hand was clamped tight around your thigh, his face buried between your legs. 

It had never occurred to you that Troy Calypso of all people would have his tongue pierced, but gods were you glad he did. The cold metal lightly flicking against your over-sensitive skin combined with the warm wetness of his tongue was delicious. Your toes curled into the soft sheets as he licked at you again, almost as eager to please you as you were to him. 

You supposed he would take his time, make this an incredible experience for you, too. After all, those who fucked gods and lived to tell the tale, better have a damn good story to tell. 

"Holy shit," he laughed, flesh fingers shifting from your thigh to collect some of the wetness dripping from you. "You're so fuckin' turned on right now." 

The God King fixed you with a feral smirk, piercing blue eyes fixating on your enraptured expression. He wasn't wrong. He was your god, after all, and here you were, lying beneath him while he fucked you with his tongue. It felt good. Better than good. You felt special, like you'd been chosen for this purpose. You had prayed for something like this for so long, begging to be chosen for some higher purpose. Now here you finally were, directly pleasing the God King. Yes, things were very good for you right now indeed. 

You were trying not to stare too much, it felt almost blasphemous to stare at him, so you kept your eyes firmly fixed on his face. It was hard not to look at the glowing red tattoos, the non-siren ink that filled more space than not of his coffee-colored skin. He was scrawny but strong, unintimidating and yet imposing at the same time. He was otherworldly, beautiful, not like any of the bandits you had ever seen before. You supposed that was why he was the God, and the rest of you, the faithful. 

He seemed to decide you were ready enough, or perhaps he was simply bored of giving and getting nothing in return. 

The metal hand removed itself from your abdomen. 

"On your knees," it was a low command, the husky, half-teasing tone he always used on stream, a voice you'd pictured talking to you like this, lust filled and demanding, for far longer than you'd willingly admit. 

You scrambled to obey him, settling yourself in the desired position. There's a soft thud as his feet hit the ground; you're pulled backwards, to the edge of the bed, a warm flesh hand on the small of your back to guide you, swiftly moving to seize a handful of your sun-damaged hair. 

"Ready?" 

It's a rhetorical question, you're pretty sure, but you answer anyway. 

"Yes!" 

His grip on your hair tightens almost painfully. 

"Yes, what?" His voice is smooth, he knows exactly how to play you, and you forgot his title. 

"Yes, my king." 

He presses a playful kiss to the back of your neck. 

"Good girl." His cybernetic hand loosely grips your hip for stability as he positions himself neatly behind you. 

You tense, soaked with wanting as you feel him brush the head of his cock against you. 

He slams into you with barely any warning, no consideration for any time to adjust. If he were anyone else you'd probably be pissed, but he's the God King and you, you are entirely devoted to him, so you moan and gasp through the pain. You hadn't expected him to be small, but everything seems to be... well in proportion with the rest of his size. You're going to feel this later, bruised and possibly bleed, but you don't care. All that matters is Troy, and pleasing him, because he chose you, you above all others, for this. 

He releases your hair, flesh hand gripping your waist tightly as his metal hand braces against the bed. He hadn't expected you to be so receptive. They're always willing, everyone he rarely takes into his bed, but you're a special kind of devoted. It definitely helps that you're young and curvy and have a nice tight, warm grip around him. Even gods think with their dicks on occasion, it seems. 

He's rough and demanding, each snap of his hips against yours harder and deeper than the one before. He has very little interest in anything but his own pleasure; that's the whole damn point of this, isn't it? Use a willing follower to get off, get them off in return... it's a fair deal, in his eyes. Plus, it gives him a nice home movie to watch later when he's feeling "lonely". 

You're a trembling, sobbing mess in no time. He's so much bigger than you, the heat of his body against yours, the sharp sting of his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your shoulder blades... it's too much, all too much, but you don't want it to end. You stuff your fist into your mouth to muffle your desperate moans, certain you must be annoying him. 

He drags your hand from your mouth, pins it beneath his. 

"Let me hear you." 

He's so good at giving orders, so commanding, what can you do but obey? You moan and shake and beg as you reach your peak twice around him, vision hazy, body trembling. 

"You've done so well for me," he practically purrs into your ear, "just a little longer."

His hands seize your waist again, pull you closer, holding you in place to meet each sharp snap of his hips against yours. 

"Anything," you manage to gasp out, "anything for you." 

He smirks against your skin, leaving another bite mark in his wake. This one is deep enough to draw blood. The tip of his tongue swipes out to taste it. The God King might put on a show for the masses, but in his private affairs, he was far more monstrous than one would think. 

He's rougher, more erratic, spitting curses from low in his throat as he fucks you, growling and cursing as he finishes, filling you with the hot wetness of his release. 

"Heh," once he catches his breath, he pulls out of you, stands back to admire his work. You're a mess of bruises, bite marks, hand prints where he gripped your waist, but you've never felt more alive. 

"What if I-?" You glance down; you hadn't been expecting him to finish inside you. 

He barely looks at you now it's over; that much is part of the act. Even if he wanted to hold you, do the normal cuddling shit, he can't. Gods don't behave that way. 

"Then you'll have been blessed." A shirt is thrown at you, "not just anybody gets to carry the God King's children." 

With a smirk and a final glance at you, he's gone, leaving you to dress in confused silence and be escorted out by the same priest who brought you there.


End file.
